


knockout

by paopuleaf



Series: zine pieces [1]
Category: Epithet Erased (Cartoon)
Genre: Anxiety, Dreams, Gen, talking to urself in a dream and then talking to ur friends to ovrcome trauma the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:47:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24938518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paopuleaf/pseuds/paopuleaf
Summary: "Sylvie grabs his bag from next to the door and locks up, making his way down to the buses and getting on. He’s… going to go see Molly. Hisfriend. The dust sits heavy on his skin, but the idea fills in the little spots with something. He doesn’t know what, but it’s good."-[my full zine piece for the epithet erased zine.]
Relationships: Sylvester "Sylvie" Ashling & Molly Blyndeff & Giovanni Potage
Series: zine pieces [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804966
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66





	knockout

Sylvie stands at the edge of a very, very long hallway, no walls in sight; just doors lining the gaps of a cosmic emptiness. There are a few sheep floating around in his peripheral vision, but when he turns to look at them head-on, they vanish in a cloud of golden dust. “Ah…” He recognizes this place, vaguely, like deja vu. It’s… safe? Probably?

Either way, he takes a few steps forward, the floor underneath him rippling.  _ Like a salt flat,  _ Sylvie thinks, detached, before he leans against one of the doors in a spell of exhaustion. He’s  _ dreaming _ , how is he so  _ tired _ \- The door opens underneath him, and he falls through, tumbling to a heap on the floor of-

On the floor of his own office.

Huh.

Sylvie gets to his feet and brushes his pants off, huffing when his sleep dust sticks to the fabric.  _ Whatever. None of this- none of this is  _ real,  _ anyway.  _ He looks around, but the office is empty; he takes a seat at the office chair and spins absent-mindedly. There are shelves lining the walls, little trinkets he doesn’t recognize sitting on top. A sheep, a bull, a bear, a bat. A bat with a knife taped onto it-  _ are you kidding me- _

As he reaches forward to knock it onto the floor, annoyed, the door creaks open. “I heard this was Dr. Ashling’s office?” The voice is familiar, yet not- like hearing his own voice through a recording. Sylvie spins around only to see himself in the doorway, except a little younger, yo-yo clutched like a lifeline and a sheep tucked behind his legs. 

Sylvie opens his mouth, closes it, then nods, summoning a sheep of his own to run his fingers through. “Yeah- yes, that’s me. Dr. Sylvester Ashling, at your service. What do you need?”  _ Why do you look like me? What is going  _ on _? _

“I want to talk about some things,” Ashling says, a perfect mirror image of him right down to the carefully crafted, calm voice he uses with his patients. “Is that okay?”

“Not really,” Sylvie says. As he speaks, his epithet shifts just enough for him to summon a sheep, placing it in his lap. He runs his fingers through its wool and feels a little better. “But I can, if that’s what you- I- we want.”

Ashling snorts. “You and me both know that I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know. I’m not my own entity, like Beefton. I’m just… you.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m kind of glad you aren’t Beefton. I’m still mad at him for the museum property damage.”

“No need to hold onto grudges, Sylvie. They didn’t charge us.”

“Stop telling me things I already know like I’m some-”

“Kid?”   
  


_ Ouch. _ "I didn't go to sleep to get insulted by myself." Sylvie wants to glance up to a clock like it’ll have a deadline, like it’ll hurry anything up, but he knows the rules. “What do you want to talk about.”

“ _ You _ want to talk about Salamin. And Molly. Maybe even the dumb Banzai Captain,” Ashling lists, leaning back with his own sheep. “You want to talk about your epithet, and how it doesn’t feel right, and how this shouldn’t be happening because it doesn’t line up with your usual dreams. Right?”

“Right.” Sylvie crosses his arms. “But talking to myself won’t help me feel better?”

Ashling shrugs. “Not necessarily. Coming to terms with yourself is an important part of healing, but that’s not really your problem, is it?”

“I want to talk to Molly,” Sylvie admits. “I just… I don’t know if…” He does not finish his own sentence for himself; Ashling simply waits. “I know she didn’t want to be my friend, at first. And Giovanni just sees me as some dumb kid, and he’s stupid. But… I want to be friends. I think. God, this is incredibly stupid.”

“Yeah. But that’s okay.”

“Not that I’ll ever admit.”

“I know.”

They both laugh, and Ashling stands, the sheep in his lap vanishing. He walks over to the door, opens it, and turns for a moment, expression pensive. “We should text them, soon.”

“...we should.”

Ashling smiles, soft, and Sylvie finds himself mirroring the expression before the office shakes. The floor underneath him shatters like glass, and he lets out a yelp as he falls, and falls, and  _ falls, and-  _

Wakes up.

_ … wow.  _ The dream is vivid, pressing in his memory, and Sylvie’s… smiling. His epithet still doesn’t fit quite right, but it’s less grating this time. He rolls over on his bed and blindly looks for his glasses, then his phone, shooting off a quick text to Molly.

**sylvester** : hey, can i come over to the toy shop today?   
  


**molly** : yeah but giovanni’s here is that okay

**sylvester** : mm

With a tired groan, Sylvie gets up. He puts on his usual outfit, minus the overcoat, and summons a few sheep to pick papers off of the floor while he makes coffee.  _ Giovanni’s going to be there.  _ It doesn’t fill him with quite as much agitation as normal, but he’s still pretty annoyed. There’s no way in hell he’s having a serious conversation with Molly while the Banzai Captain’s around. 

One of his sheep - he recognizes Orion when he looks down, the star-pattern freckles a dead giveaway - gently head-butts him with a couple papers in hand. They’re from the hospitals, recommendations about staying at home and resting for a week before going back to work. It’s Saturday, and-

“How did you know I was planning on going to work on Monday. I’m  _ still  _ going to work on Monday,” Sylvie huffs, watching the coffee trickle down into the pot. “You literally cannot stop me. Doesn’t matter if I ‘just got out of the hospital.’”

Orion bleats, before the rest of the sheep he summoned set the papers down on the couch and swarm him, nudging against his legs until he falls down into the soft fleece. “I could unsummon you at any time,” he protests into the air, but he makes no move to follow through on his threat until the coffee is ready and he  _ has  _ to go or he’ll miss the meeting time with Molly. 

Sylvie grabs his bag from next to the door and locks up, making his way down to the buses and getting on. He’s… going to go see Molly. His  _ friend _ . The dust sits heavy on his skin, but the idea fills in the little spots with something. He doesn’t know what, but it’s good.

-

The sign on the front of the Blyndeff Toy Emporium is flipped to closed, so Sylvie walks through the side alley and up the stairs to the apartment door. He rings the doorbell and shifts, itching to summon a sheep but restraining himself. It swings open to reveal Giovanni, grinning widely with a blanket slung over his shoulder. “Sup, nerd! Molly told me you were coming, so we- she grabbed you an extra spot in the fort!”

“The- fort?”

Giovanni scoffs and tosses him the blanket, gesturing for him to follow as he heads back into the apartment. Sylvie closes the door behind him and walks into the living room, blanket dragging behind him as he stares at the huge pillow fort. Molly pokes her head out, bear hood pulled hastily over her curls, and waves. “Hi Sylvie! I’m glad you could make it!”

“Ye- yeah, me too,” he responds, unsure. A sheep pops into existence by his feet, almost subconsciously, and Sylvie winces as he leans down and picks it up. “That just, uh, happens sometimes, now.”

“Doctor Yo-yo can’t control his epithet, huh?” Giovanni teases, leaning over and taking the sheep. Sylvie huffs, about to protest, but the former Banzai captain just waves him forward as he ducks into the fort. 

“I  _ can, _ thank you very much.” Sylvie crawls into the tent, watching as the sheep - Caspar, he notes - settles down between Molly and Giovanni. “My sheep just have a mind of their own sometimes, like Beefton.” He lays down on a pile of blankets next to Molly and shifts until he’s comfortable, suppressing a grin when Caspar nibbles at Giovanni’s cape.

Molly laughs when Caspar nibbles at her fingers, before she gently hums and de-summons him, leaving only a light dusting of sleep dust behind. “How have you been? I- I know you’ve been in the hospital for a while, are you doing better now?” 

“I’m doing… perfectly fine, thank you for asking,” Sylvie responds. It’s hard, keeping the defensive tone out of his voice- he’s  _ fine,  _ he just… has some things to talk through. Adults do too. It’s okay. 

Giovanni, on the other hand, has other ideas, dramatically gesturing the best he can to the sleep dust in the enclosed space. “Hellooooo? Mr. Summoning Sheep? Clearly your epithet is still outta wack, dude.”

“I told you, that’s just-  _ something  _ they do sometimes!” It sounds like an excuse even to his own ears. “I’m fine. Can we just- I don’t know, watch a movie or something?” Giovanni opens his mouth to say something else, but Molly smacks her hand against his face and nods.

“Yeah! I got Sonic,” she says, but there’s a look in her eyes that lets Sylvie know that this isn’t the end of the conversation.  _ You came here to talk,  _ his mind reminds him, and yeah, he sure did, huh. “Lorelai was gonna watch it, but I stole it from her room! She didn’t even notice.”

“Oh, hel- heck yeah, Bear Trap!” 

They high five, and Sylvie snickers, holding out a fist.  _ That’s… right, right? _ Molly brightens and taps it with her own, before pushing aside the blankets at the front of the fort to reveal the TV. It’s… a kid’s movie, and Sylvie isn’t a kid, but- Molly looks so excited, and so does Giovanni (and he’s an adult,  _ technically. _ ) 

It’s fun, and a good movie, he admits, after nearly knocking Molly over in excitement when the post-credits scene started to roll (which he  _ vehemently  _ denies.) Giovanni grins, leg bouncing as he taps at his knee. “I bet I could do that thing from the bar scene with my epithet!”

“Oh please, Potage. You could  _ not  _ go as fast as Sonic.” Sylvie rolls his eyes. “If anything, maybe Molly could use her epithet to dumb down some of the fighters, but they’re  _ already  _ stupid.”

“He can teleport, though,” Molly points out, and yeah, that’s a little fair. “Plus, if he borrowed some of your sleep dust, he could easily knock out people without even needing the speed.”

“Basing your success off of an unreliable factor is an easy way to fail! I don’t even know if my sleep dust still-” Sylvie cuts himself off, hands curling around his hoodie strings. “I mean, of course- course that would work, I. Uh.”

Molly’s eyebrows furrow, and she runs her fingers along the carpet where Caspar vanished; her fingers come up clear, besides a little bit of lint. “Doesn’t it stick around for longer, usually?”

Sylvie stays silent, wincing as another sheep pops up in the fort. “Y’know, you could always come train with my cool team of former-Banzai Blasters if you want! Even a nerd like you would fit right in,” Giovanni offers, and  _ what. _

“What makes you think I would- wait,  _ former  _ Banzai Blasters?” 

“Yeah! They were mistreating their minions, so we all split off! They’re lame, anyway. I’m going to be the best supervillain around! So whaddya say?”

It sounds nice- wait, no it doesn’t, he shouldn’t go train with some former- current? - criminals- “Of  _ course  _ n-”

“Sylvie…”

Molly gives him this look, somewhere between disappointment and frustration. “You should come along. We’re… friends, right? I want you to be there- if that’s okay with you, of course.” She smiles, picks up the new sheep. 

“We’ll be doing our next session on Monday, and I can pick you up in our super cool  _ villain bus! _ ”

“I’ve got… work on Monday,” Sylvie protests. Giovanni raises an eyebrow, looking him up and down before shaking his head.

“Didn’t you just, like, get out of the hospital?”

“Yeah, should you really be going to work…? I know the feeling, but…”

Sylvie draws his knees up to his chest. “I…” He thinks about the dream, his epithet, carefully swerves the museum. “Probably not,” he admits, and Giovanni cheers. 

“Well then, just give Bear Trap your address and I’ll be there in the morning! My boys are going to love you- aw, I have to start thinking about a nickname now!”

“I’m not one of your  _ minions  _ now, you know. Just an… ally.”

“I think Knockout’s a good nickname, Boss.”

“ _ You _ too, Molly?”

Giovanni cackles as Sylvie groans, fighting off a smile.  _ Knockout sounds nice- no! _

He calls in sick on Monday. 

He  _ was  _ just in the hospital, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at rylron on tumblr ! fair warning is that i no longer really post/write for epithet erased anymore, but if you're interested in hlvrai, i Definitely Have That ! 
> 
> this zine was a joy to be a part of, and i'm happy to everyone who both participated and bought it. special thanks to mods sylvie n giovanni.


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